


Negotiations

by owlmoose



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Kiss Battle, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Politics follow Ashe wherever she goes, and meetings with Al-Cid are never an exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2009 Trick or Treat round of the [Final Fantasy Kiss Battle](http://community.livejournal.com/ff_kissbattle/). Prompt was "Ashe/Al-Cid, Unfortunate".

Ashe nodded her head in farewell one last time to the final member of the Rozarrian delegation. "Thank you for coming," she said.

The noble bowed in return; Ashe shut the door behind him, then took a deep breath of freedom. Placing her hands on the small of her back, she stretched backwards, drawing her shoulder blades together, looking up at the ceiling to stretch out her neck. Then she let her shoulders fall with a huge sigh before turning to slump against the door.

"Long meeting," said a voice from the corner of the room, and Ashe instantly came to attention, standing up straight and whirling toward its source.

"Who is-- oh. Why are you still here? I thought you left with the others."

Al-Cid hadn't moved from the chair he had taken at the start of the day-long negotiations. Hands curled around the arms of the chair, he settled against its back, his legs straight in front of him and crossed at the ankles. "I required a moment with you, alone."

Ashe crossed her arms. "And you seem to have arranged it."

"Please, there is no need to be suspicious of my motives." Al-Cid unfolded himself from the chair. "I only wish to ask if you have spoken to Lord Larsa." He crossed the room toward Ashe, spreading his arms as he made his way around the table. "You see, I became fond of the boy in the time we spent together at Bur-Omisace. Despite appearances, he took his father's death quite hard, and now that he has lost his brother as well, I have been concerned for him. Reading between the lines of official reports, it seems he does well enough, but I wonder at the truth of them. Do you know anything more?"

Ashe considered the request for a moment. Plausible, she supposed, but could he also be probing for weaknesses in Archadia for Rozarria to exploit? She had trusted Al-Cid from the moment they met, judging him as a younger son with few political ambitions, valuing stability over personal or national power. So far, he had proven himself worthy of that trust. Still, she never forgot that his interests did not always align with hers. She lifted her chin to meet his eyes; seeing no guile there, she uncrossed her arms, and nodded.

"Larsa is, as you say, well enough. The public face he puts on is near to the truth. He grieves, but as an adult would grieve -- behind closed doors, not letting his sorrow cloud his thoughts or judgment. I see no cause for worry."

Al-Cid bowed his head. "He is a strong one, that boy." Then he lifted his chin, shaking the hair out of his eyes and meeting Ashe's gaze again. "And how do you come by this information?"

Ashe raised an eyebrow. "I have my channels," she replied.

"Ah!" Al-Cid smiled, a sudden predatory grin, and moved in closer to Ashe. "So, are the rumors true? Does the Lord Larsa have a new protector now, a hound who serves two masters? Or perhaps I should say, one master and one mistress."

She took a step back. "I've no idea what you mean."

"Of course not." Al-Cid's smile widened. "Regardless of how you come by the information, I appreciate having it. Pass my best regards and sympathies to him, if you will?"

"I will," Ashe replied with a nod, not missing the ambiguous pronoun in his last statement.

"Good." Al-Cid tipped his gaze sideways, peering at her through his hair. "I hear other rumors, majesty. Regarding, shall we say, your plans for marriage? Or lack thereof?"

Ashe raised her chin and tried not to grit her teeth. "You may recall that we took this issue off the table as a condition of our negotiations."

"Yes, yes." Al-Cid raised his hands, still smiling. "And I would never presume to raise it myself, in any official capacity. I understand that you will not marry into House Margrace or House Solidor, and from a political standpoint, I agree: such an alliance would destabilize the region, perhaps beyond repair. But unofficially, I may say that I find your decision... unfortunate."

"Oh?" Al-Cid moved still closer; Ashe could smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his skin. She should back away, she knew, but something kept her rooted to the floor, her pulse speeding up with each step he took.

Al-Cid lifted a hand, brought it in toward her face. Ashe caught his wrist, circling her fingers around it, and he closed his hand into a loose fist. "Much of my life I have lamented the fate that made me but one of many younger sons of House Margrace. But never before have I regretted being too close to the seat of power, rather than too far."

He turned his hand in hers to tangle their fingers together, and Ashe caught her breath at the smoothness of his skin. "Al-Cid, you--" But before she could speak again, he swooped down, stopping her words with his mouth. His kiss was warm and inviting, and despite herself Ashe responded to him, pressed into his lithe body, tightened her fingers around his. Then she broke away, dropping his hand and stepping out of his reach. She shook her head with a smile. "You, sir, are too forward by half."

"So they tell me." Al-Cid shrugged, letting his hand fall on the doorknob. "But I find that I prefer to take the risk. How else than by pushing forward do we learn how far we can go?" He took her hand, more lightly this time, and bowed over it, brushing her fingers with the barest touch of lips, his hair tickling the underside of her wrist and sending a shiver up her spine. "My lady, I take my leave. Until tomorrow's negotiations." Standing, he produced his sunglasses from a pocket and put them on as he opened the door and stepped through.

Ashe stood in the doorway and watched him walk down the corridor; only when he took a turn and disappeared from sight did she allow herself to shake her head and laugh. His was an offer she was unlikely to ever accept, but she thought she might enjoy taking more opportunities to consider it.


End file.
